Where the Cameras Weren't

This is a picture (not of the day that I talk about in this post) of my brother and I playing in the front yard of my old house after a big rain had come. 

One of the strongest memories I have of my childhood, was a single day in a thunderstorm.
My brother, grandfather, and I were standing in my grandfather's garage. The door was open, rain splashed off the driveway and into the carport. It smelled like bricks, grass, and summer. The three of us just stood there.
We stood, and watched as the rain fell down on the concrete.
I don't know how old I was, I know that I was pretty young. Probably about six or seven.
When it rained, the water would pool in the small dips in the yard. My brother and I always loved to splash in them, and that day, we decided we would swim in them.
Now of course, the water was not even close to deep enough to be able to swim. It was just a little over a puddle. But we sat down in it anyways, and we splashed and we played and we laughed.
My grandmother came out of the house and told us : "Be careful, now! If a snappin' turtle bites you, he won't let go 'til thunder rolls." People say that where I live, I'm sure they must say it other places as well.
Wet grass clung to my hair, I had mud all over me, but that was one of the best days. I have so many other days to tell about, but I'll save those for another day.
If I could go back in time and take pictures of days in my life where I felt truly alive, I would go back to this day first. I would take a picture of me and my grandfather and my brother, standing in the opening of that garage watching the rain. I would take a picture of me and my brother, covered from head to toes in mud and wet grass, laughing like maniacs.

Peace, love, and memories of happiness,
                                                                 Sara

Letter number two: Memories of sun and rain

Dear Ballpark Day,

That day the rain came out of no where. It poured out of the previously sunny sky like someone had turned a giant water tap as far as it would go. It beat down on the slanted roof of the concession stand. It showered across the baseball fields and everyone seemed to forget why we'd been there in the first place. Some people ran under the cover of the small over hangs, others ran the long distance back to their cars. All games were called off due to the surprise rain storm. The usual drab looking ball park had been transformed into a sort of watery wonderland in mere minutes. 

Water built up in large puddles on the concrete. Children laughed wildly, we were among them. We were soaked through and through, but we ran, happy and care free through the puddles. Mom wanted to leave right then, but we stalled for time. Racing around the ballpark without a single care in the world. 

Our hair was drenched. I didn't stop running even to wring mine out. The dust from the baseball fields had turned  into thick reddish mud. The players slipped and slid in it, trying to get as dirty as they possibly could. 

The sun shone through the thick rain clouds in places, coloring the entire scene in a yellowish-brown hue. 

And as the rain began to subside, gone as quickly as it had come, we stood at the corner of an over hang. Letting the water drip down on us. The two of us looked as if we had jumped into the river with all of our clothes on. When the rain had gone and it was time to go, we clambered into the backseat and sat in our soaked clothes.
If there were a jar filled with my favorite days, that would be one of them.

                             I'll always remember, 

                                                  Sara